


oh baby, you're a classic

by iniquiticity



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Fluff, Jealous Venom is the Best, Other, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 07:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iniquiticity/pseuds/iniquiticity
Summary: about a symbiote's taste in music, company, and his host's opinions on such.





	oh baby, you're a classic

**Author's Note:**

> for more exciting venom bullshit, you can find me on tumblr at [iniquiticity](http://iniquiticity.tumblr.com), or on twitter at [@picklesnake](https://twitter.com/picklesnake).

Fucking Muni, he thought, stepping off the broken down bus and into the chilly San Francisco night. It wasn’t a good look to take your motorcycle to a talk about public transport issue that he was reporting on, and then to add insult to injury on the way back to the bus had broken down and he was standing on Folsom street cursing everything.

He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and started walking along with the rest of the dispering bus crowd. A rattling wind off the bay ruffled through his hair, and through the hoodie. At least he was never cold anymore, with Venom.

**_Eddie._ **

He was no longer startled at Venom’s voice in the back of his brain.

 _Hmm?_ He thought. He was had been practicing thinking back at Venom, so he looked less like a crazy person carrying a sentient alien symbiote and more like a person just deep in his own thoughts. So far he’d mastered three response-thoughts, to the tune of _what is it?_ , _please be quiet_ , and _shut the fuck up._

**_We like that noise._ **

He glanced around. Oh, they were near the clubs on Folsom street, and he felt the bass rattle in his skin a little more as he walked closer. He could get back on the bus on a few streets down - too broke to take an Uber, right now. “That club garbage?”

**_You have bad taste._ **

“Says the one who went for the three-day old rotting garbage chicken,” he shot back, but he stopped a few steps in front of 1015 Folsom. The bouncer eyed him, so he turned away, looking back down Folsom street. Around him were the beginnings of the early club-goes in their club outfits. He’d been more into women in club outfits before Anne - it was sexier that she actually had it together without the teetering heels.

**_We should go inside._ **

“We’re not going to the club, V,” he said, and kept walking.

He felt the symbiote leeching through his sneakers, stopping him suddenly.

**_Why not?_ **

A couple gave him a funny look. He scowled at them and took a step backward, leaning against the metal fronting of the next storefront.

“Well, we don’t meet dress code,” he said, “But more importantly, I’m not indulging your shitty music taste, and also I’m too broke for the cover.”

He felt that peculiar sense of Venom ruffling through his memories. Maybe there was a possibility he could get them to ask first. One day at a time.

**_Dress code is not an issue for us._ **

Before he could respond, he felt Venom leeching out of him again.

“Hey--” he started, but it wasn’t the whole thing, just through his hoodie and tightening and shifting in a strange way. Three women gawked at him, then crossed the street to avoid him. He opened his mouth to apologize to them.

**_We look less homeless now._ **

Eddie looked down and saw the change. It felt - it didn’t feel bad. Kind of nice, actually, like being wrapped in a blanket, just enough pressure. Warmth, like when Venom took him all the way over. This was just his top half though, where he was now wearing a black jacket with white shoulder yokes that looked suspiciously the symbiote’s eyes. A black shirt under it, just rippled with some kind of design. Venom had even covered his shoes, so now they looked like damn bowling shoes or something.

He took out his phone and studied himself in the front camera. Only begrudgingly could he admit that it was a decent look, and he felt Venom preen with approval and flex all around him. Then he sighed, put his phone back, and looked up at the sky. Clear here, at least, that he could see the moon.

“If we go to the club,” he said, “I get to sleep as late as I want. No waking me up complaining that you’re hungry. And no fucking with my brain chemicals to awake me up either. That’s the deal. Deal?”

He could feel Venom thinking about it, the core of him shifting from one shoulder to another, down his back and up again.

**_Deal._ **

Sighing, Eddie turned back and walked up to the bouncer, a broad man in a leather jacket. The man gave him a suspicious once-over, perhaps wondering how he’d fixed his outfit up in the middle of the street, and then flicked a flashlight out. “ID?”

He handed his license over. The bouncer studied it. “You the Eddie Brock from the Brock Report?”

“The one and only,” he said, opening his arms. It was weird, to have Venom half-exposed like this. He couldn’t shake the sense that someone might notice.

**_We are a very convincing jacket, Eddie._ **

“You do good work,” the bouncer said, handing his license back, “Skip the cover. I bet that’s not a job that gives you a lot of spare change. City needs you though. Makes me feel like someone’s looking out for everyone who’s not a fucking tech nerd, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, “Thanks man. I really appreciate that.”

“I like your jacket. Where did you get it?” the man said, because of course he did, and Eddie could feel Venom preening harder in the base of his neck, because of course they fucking were.

**_See, we have better taste. You dress like a homeless person._ **

Shut the fuck up, he replied, and Venom snickered. Eddie concentrated on words again, “Uh. A friend made it for me.”

“He sell stuff like that?”

They went hot with anger. **_WE ONLY DO CLOTHES FOR EDDIE,_** they hissed somewhere around his right shoulder. It felt weirdly good when Venom got possessive. That’s the kind of fucked up his life was now, when he was pleased that the alien blob in his brain liked only him.

“Sorry man,” he said, and the bouncer shrugged, and waved him in. Venom hummed with satisfaction across his back.

The club was louder inside, so much so that Eddie was pretty sure no one could hear him talk. That was good. He sat at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. “This music is garbage,” he said again, because it was fun to get on their nerves.

 ** _Loser opinions of people who wear homeless clothes. You should listen to us more often._** Venom replied, but without any of the usual intensity. They felt good - content. Satisfied, for the moment. He could feel Venom pulsing around him, not just where the jacket was, but also inside him in the way that it had taken him a little while to get used to. If he concentrated he could feel the thumping between his organs in some way, to go along with the bass of whatever it was they were listening to. There was a definite rhythm to it, not entirely horrible. Nice, really, in the scale of ways the symbiote moved around his body.

He took a drink, realized they were dancing, and luckily swallowed before he laughed.

There was puzzlement from them for a moment. They reached into his thoughts to figure it out.

**_What’s funny?_ **

“You’re dancing. In the fucking club. How could that not be funny.”

**_It’s not funny._ **

“Alien blobs dancing to bad techno is funny,” he said, and finished off the glass. Venom had made it a lot harder for him to get drunk, which was annoying. “They have techno where you're from?”

 ** _Symbiote,_** Venom corrected him, though without the intensity. **_And there is no music on my home planet,_** they added, and it was a bit firmer - more serious than Eddie had meant it. Even if this music sucked, the thought of a place with no music at all knocked most of the cheer out of him pretty quick. What was the fucking point of the world without Pink Floyd?

He felt Venom figuring out what Pink Floyd was. He hummed a riff of Dark Side of the Moon (for assistance) and checked his wallet to see if there was enough to order another drink. He checked his bank balance on his phone, then ordered a double. It was not too bad, to just sit here and contemplate the nature of the perfect combination gin and tonic while Venom hummed around and through him, thumping softly. It was weird, as well, that in a place like this was the place where he got a moment of quiet from the voice in the back of his head. Maybe 1015 Folsom was now the place where he was going to go when he needed to think.

He took out his phone and let the weirdly relaxing feeling of the endless scroll take over him. People in his Twitter mentions fighting about a story and calling him a plant, which was the nicest thing they called him; dumb posts on his Facebook feed about dogs and people’s lives and birthdays and dumb news articles he didn’t care about. After a while he didn’t even hear the music, really, just felt Venom pulsing along to it, a strange lawnmower-rumble of their voice in the base of his neck somewhere, almost like singing. He ordered a water next.

“Hey, I like your jacket,” said a voice, and it took him a moment to realize that 1) the voice was talking to him and b) it wasn’t Venom.

It was a woman, actually, a pretty woman in a silvery dress with black accents. She had dark hair and wore a lot of makeup, green eyeshadow or eyeliner or something. Hot, for sure.

Immediately the pulse of Venom in his chest stopped, and it felt like a fist clenched his ribcage and squeezed. He coughed in surprise, then offered her a smile. A dork smile of a person who hadn’t picked up in a woman in a really long time, but a smile nonetheless.

“Thanks,” he said, “My friend made it for me.”

“Whatever your friend got it to do with those LEDs is pretty awesome,” she said. He looked down and saw Venom shifting. There wasn’t enough light to see it if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but there was the split of a mouth and the beginning of many jagged teeth, and --

“Chill the fuck out,” he hissed under his breath.

 ** _We should eat her._** Venom hissed.

Eddie stuck his hand in a fake pocket and found a handful of Venom substance and squeezed, trying to impress _Chill the fuck out_ some more.

“Yeah, he’s into making shit look as weird as possible,” he said to the girl, who was still smiling at him. He weighed his options for a couple of moment, then, because fuck it, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah,” she brightened at him, “What are you drinking?”

“Gin and tonic. Boring, right?” A little laugh. “That good for you?”

“Sound perfect.”

 ** _EDDIE._** Oh, they were angry now, the twisting in his ribcage and that rattling voice louder, booming next to the music. **_YOU BELONG TO US._**

“So,” the girl said, “You from around here?”

“Oh,” he said, and it was a little funny to listen to Venom be pissed, although he was a bit worried that something terrible would happen, “I live in SoMa. So close enough, right?”

“Well, hopefully not too close,” she said, and he laughed, because he was pretty sure he was supposed to. Venom veritably quivered between his ribs, their voice vibrating between his eyes.

**_EDDIE. SHE IS NOT WORTH OUR TIME._ **

“What about you?” he asked, taking a sip of his water. It wasn’t the best idea to buy the girl a drink, not just because of Venom but also because of his wallet, but it was actually kind of nice to talk to someone who wasn't Venom who was interested in him. Did wonders for the confidence and all that.

“Oh, I’m in from New York for ten days for a business thing,” she rolled her eyes, “Pretty boring stuff. But luckily I don’t have any plans for the weekend, so I was just trying to make something happen.” She reached forward and moved to touch his wrist, but Eddie knew instantly that that would go badly, and moved his hand away.

“Yeah?” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. This satisfied Venom for the moment; he could feel the substance pouring through his fingers and pressing through his palms. “It’s supposed to be nice this weekend. I hear the park is beautiful this time of year.”

“Oh, I guess,” she said, doing a poor job of disguising the frown, “Anyway. Thanks for the drink. Have a nice night!”

“You too,” he said, and watched her walk away with his twelve dollars.

**_You should have let us eat her fingers._ **

“You are such a jealous bitch,” Eddie said, and shook his head in a resigned kind of way. He finished the water and put it back on the bar, then stood, “Have you had enough bad techno?”

 ** _No one else is in your shitty apartment,_** Venom responded. He could feel the symbiote now starting out at the packed place like each and every drunk person threatened them.

“More sleep for me.” Outside the night was cool on his face, and he felt Venom draw away from the pretend clothes, until it was just his ragged hoodie and holey sneakers. He checked the bus on his phone and headed towards the next bus stop.

**_Why did she talk to you?_ **

“She thought I was hot,” he said, and sat in the back corner of the bus, opening the window and leaning his face against the wall, so he could mutter as quietly as possible. It wasn’t like this was a popular route at this point, just a few homeless people, a sad tech bro or two, and a Chinese woman with a cart. “Still got it.”

 ** _NO._** The voice rattled so loudly he was surprised that he managed not to jump. **_US, EDDIE. NO ONE ELSE._**

“You don’t have an competition from a club girl, V,” he said, and under his hand formed Venom’s head. He gave it an absent-minded pet, turning from the window to watch the way his fingers slipped over and through the inky blackness. The perpendicular seats hid the action, at least; he let his head fall back against the back of the bus, feeling the pressure of Venom ease as he slipped back into his skin.

 ** _No one else,_** Venom repeated, though there was a little less intensity there. **_Anne can stay._**

“I’m sure she’ll feel honored you included her,” he replied, almost laughing. Off the bus, up the hill a block. His keys in the door, up a few flights up steps, into the apartment.

“Now remember, you promised,” he said, turning on the faucet and wiping his face. He felt the sense of Venom sliding out of his shoulder, and looked up after washing to see the white eyes and teeth, “Don’t wake me up, or I’ll be pissed. I’ll find that girl and bring her straight here.”

 ** _We like midnight snacks,_** they said and licked him. He wiped the slime off his face and sighed. **_But we didn't forget._ **

The symbiote formed and reformed as he kicked off his clothes and sat in front of the old desktop to pull up Spotify. A few flicks of the mouse and whatever Spotify thought got space on ‘Good Techno’ playlist came out of the speakers.

 _**Eddie, you hate this music.** _ Venom said, this time with more confusion.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” he said, and poured himself a glass of water. He chugged the first one, then brushed his teeth. The bed was warm, and better with Venom wrapping around him like a suit. Certainly this solved the problem of cold feet when sleeping. He’d had a habit of kicking his socks off. That wasn’t going to happen now.

_**You are never going to kick us off.** _

“Good,” he said, without thinking, and yawned, “Just don’t turn it up so loud it wakes me up.” When he lifted a hand he felt Venom’s head under it, and ran his fingers over and through the shape again, sighing with the contentedness of it. This was his incredibly weird fucking life. A good night was laying in your bed petting your symbiote while you listened to techno.

A black tendril slid from him to flick the light off.

“Thanks.”

_**Sweet dreams, loser.** _

“Asshole,” he said, and swatted at whatever part of Venom was closest. Easier to sleep, with the rhythmic pulse around him, the voice in his head humming along to words that seemed deafened. He made a big yawn and rolled over.


End file.
